


Homestead

by anesor



Series: Star Wars Snippets [19]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anesor/pseuds/anesor
Summary: Obi-Wan flees Polis Massa with baby Luke, seeking his family to raise the boy more successfully than Luke's father.  Problem is that no one told the Lars they were about to inherit a baby and the farm was empty when the fugitives arrived at the safest place Obi-Wan knew of...
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Beru Whitesun, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Owen Lars
Series: Star Wars Snippets [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/930086
Comments: 2
Kudos: 113
Collections: Shadows of the Saber (NaNo 2019 Star Wars short fiction collection)





	Homestead

I returned to Tattooine for the first time in over fifteen years. It wasn’t that long for a Hutt world, nothing had changed since I watched out the hatch as Master and Padme, the ‘handmaiden’ tromped away in search of parts.

What did I search for now?

_Understanding?_

The Code could not answer the biggest mysteries.

_Absolution? Peace, or at least quiet? Time_ _to rest after years of war against the Sith, the last_ _two_ _so well hidden in plain sight?_

The Order’s time was past, after how many thousands of years. Records of an Order older than legend… The Republic was younger and just as much erased.

And I… I was pledged to protect hope.

A very small hope. Both were gifted, but the boy resembled his father so much it frightened me on the transport to bring him here.

The Force confirmed this path.

I would take little Luke to find Anakin’s kin. Maybe they could handle Force-enabled volatility better than the Order did… or permitted.

Leaving the worn and shoddy Mos Eisley starport was simple enough. There were little customs on Hutt worlds, the _Hutts_ were the largest danger. I asked around carefully, Luke bundled close while dirt and sand disguised me without much effort. Half-remembered details about Shmi Skywalker’s passing led me to Mos Eisley, seeking the Lars.

Directions led me to a sturdy moisture farm that looked too quiet. A few bantha wandered nearby but no life could be felt in the Force. This felt all too familiar to wartime missions.

I had no safer place to put Luke and carried him with me to where I expected to find desiccated corpses and vandalism. What I found were partly stripped rooms, but no sign of looting damage.

Putting the baby in a built-in drawer as a start, I sought some clue, some understanding. The one-bedroom was mostly intact, even books remained on a small shelf, the other barren. Everything else was hit or miss. Many pans and cooking tools remained, but not a single utensil remained outside a spoon fallen in a hidden corner.

Vandals and looters would not leave it like this.

Nor did I get the impression the Lars were returning. Wherever they went.

First thing, we needed water and food. For now, we had immediate shelter I still had rations and a bundle of feeder mix for Luke I carried in my pack.

So I fed and changed and looked for sonics for diapers the poor used. By the time Luke settled, I was nearly in a daze. I had so hoped to find help for him.

Instead, I went out to examine the evaporation units. I needed to understand how they operated before the water need reached critical. There were a dozen more, all making water from nothing. Better, the underground tank by the house-dome was low but not empty. An outshed, perhaps for vehicles or mounts was empty of everything except a speeder bike I’d brought with me. I found a small supply of high bulk rations in an in-ground storage chamber. I did not recognize them as premium but they were neatly sorted and not all past recommended shelf life.

I realized after another feeding cycle, I was not expecting to leave here.

The dimmer Force hummed quietly, a relief from the pain and grief.

Days passed. Exploring and setting up the things as we needed them kept me busy enough that I slept deep and dreamlessly a few hours at a time. I missed passing the twenty-day mark of Luke’s life.

Once Luke started sleeping more and I could rest instead of meditate I caught up on my sleep. I looked for messages, letters, diaries, anything to explain why the Lars were missing. Those sand worn books were not the last place I checked.

But they were the most fruitful.

Folded neatly, in a book that looked like business notes I found papers including the last will of Cliegg Lars, widower of Shmi Skywalker-Lars. There were remembrances for her son and his younger son but the real property was willed to an elder. A faded document mentioned a first wife. The final will had been countersigned by a Comptroller for the Hutts.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what that meant.

I examined the will again, leaving the Lars farm to his eldest son, Ben. As long as he claimed it within ten years.

A scrawl in another hand spewed anger. I only recognized some of the Huttese, but grief and anger were crystal clear. Another hand was calmer and requested new owners tend the graveyard by the west bluff.

That was one of a thousand sad stories I’d encountered on duty. Lack of foresight and communication was universal.

My rations were low and formula was lower, so I strapped Luke on my front. The speeder was aged and I doubted I would get much more use from it. I needed an eopie or another mount, because I would not be leaving Luke here. The speeder would cut travel time down, much better for younglings in this heat until it failed.

Mos Eisley, perhaps as thriving a pool of villainy as Coruscant, had a market fed by off-world trade for the Hutts. Investigation first while Luke was content and quiet.

I found the Comptroller was an official more akin to a judge on most worlds, but clearly beholden to the Hutts. This one was barely interested in Ben seeking to claim the Lars farm near Anchorhead when I presented myself and my child.

The young male Twi-lek demanded a blood sample, hummed, and said, “Your papers are in order Mr. Lars, we’d had to field a number of protests by a rival claimant but your metrics match… Just as well you found your way home, another few years and that neat farm would have returned to the Hutts.”

I realized I was stunned. Some crechemaster said I was from Stewjon like it was a great secret. A small, unimportant world where nothing happened and where my family left no footprint for me to find them.

I made appropriate noises as I took Luke with me. I would meditate on this later at home.

In the market, I found some needed supplies, especially for Luke: a worn padd about raising children, clothing, food, toys… There was so much I thought I needed long before I might even think of tea for myself.

I also sounded out how farmers sold their ‘crop’ of water and how much a mount would cost. Tea would have to wait.

Beyond that, and under my thoughtless talk and barter, I wondered the odds the metrics on the will were wrong, or that a harried crechemaster might tell a youngling they were from a Hutt world. I sighed and brushed Luke’s little button nose. I felt more sure the Comptroller was telling the truth, he had nothing to gain by granting the farm to a stranger.

The creche encouraged me to remain detached and become a proper Jedi.

More or less.

Somewhere out there I had a blood brother who hated me, perhaps happily joining in my step-brother’s hatred.

That meant Luke was my nephew by birth, just as much as Owen.

Owen struck out on his own, either here on Tattoine or off-planet. I hoped he had found a safe place before the Empire rose. Maybe someday…

Now, I had not just a future student, but also a nephew to raise. Would a familial relationship make the difference, or hard lessons learned? I hoped I did as well as Shmi did or Bail would. I just had to _make sure_ Luke was never left alone with hidden Sith.

* * *

The months and years had passed almost without my noticing. Luke crawled, stood, and toddled. He learned to speak and chatter and meditate without effort. Friends were rare out in the desert but he had a few as he grew.

And every day he made me smile. I learned to laugh again before he walked, I learned to hug before he ran. I learned terror before he flew. I dreaded him learning about pod racing.

He was so like his father, ignoring the slight reddish tint his shampoo gave him. Luke loved to tinker with the equipment that the farm needed. An ancient educational mouse droid was all I’d acquired out here. Materials were few for teaching, but I’d contrived with the help of other families.

No one questioned a Lars and his son working the moisture farm. I’d even managed to slowly add a few more water units. They weren’t pretty and I’d had to talk down raiding parties from settlers and raiders, with the settlers the less reasonable.

At some point we were going to need to leave, probably in a hurry, and we needed coin that spent away from Hutt space. But that was long range planning: slow preparations while Luke worked on elementary sciences and poetry at this season.

Luke came rushing in. “Papa! There’s a cloud coming. None of my friends are due.”

I grabbed grabbed my staff, enhanced enough to be a real threat on this planet. “Get into your room, I’ll call you when it’s safe.”

He shared all my other students’ talent for rolling his eyes, but obeyed.

The laden speeder came to a stop, a worn and stressed woman driving.

“Can I be of assistance?”

She looked back at someone who seemed injured and unconscious. Swallowing, “Yeah, can we beg shelter for a few nights?”

“Squatters, kriffing squatters...” The male’s voice sounded a bit feverish.

They were not enemies, but they were troubled. “We can put you up for a time, of course. Is he ill or injured?”

The woman looked relieved. “He was working the mines for a stake, but his luck ran out. They don’t do rehab for slaves.”

_-Luke, bring the aid kit.-_

The woman took a look at my sun bleached hair, not that far from Luke’s hair. “You have family?”

“Yes,” I swallowed, showing grief was not difficult. “My… lady passed during fighting on Mandalor. I’m Ben Lars and this is my son, Luke.”

Her eyes widened and she drooped. “I suppose we’re kin then. This is your brother Owen and I’m Beru. We hoped to claim the farm as no one knew what happened to you.”

“I served with a Mando troop in the war but decided to come home. I did not know what happened here. Please come inside, I have some medic experience.”

Beru looked relieved, but bringing my brother inside was awkward.

He did not hide his anger very well, but I saw he’d lost his lower leg. It was swollen and had the reek of necrosis.

I looked at Beru. “I don’t believe we have enough medicine here for this infection.”

She winced. In the Force she was almost begging.

“Luke, clear the entire area around the wide bench. Bring out my carved box and prepare a basin with _good_ water.”

By the time we’d gotten Owen inside and flat he’d passed out. It was bad, I wasn’t sure a tank of bacta would be enough.

I closed my eyes to ask the Force. Beru held Owen’s hand and Luke looked at this in horror.

“Luke. We must remember compassion, even if we are uncomfortable.”

“Yes, Papa.” He was pale, but stepped closer to me.

Removing the sodden bandaging, the smell only got worse, sickly sweet. The Force echoed that it would take extreme measures not available to save this much. It wasn’t even… this needed to be cauterized. I looked at it again. Further amputation might help, if he did not travel. “Luke put a sanitizer in the basin and stand back. You may go to your room and meditate if you wish.”

I then looked at Beru and Owen. “This infection must be reduced. It’s too established and we will have to remove more to leave only healthy tissue. You will need to remain here for extended healing time as we lack advanced materials.”

Beru gasped. Owen nodded abruptly.

I took my saber out of the box. Despite the calm that holding my saber usually gave me, I used my saber to separate another piece off my brother’s leg, trying to forget Mustafar.

The putrid piece of flesh dropped to the ground in a too familiar thud.

My hands shook as I deactivated the saber, pushing the stuff of memories and nightmares into the Force.

The Lars were shocked and Owen moaned with new pain.

“Luke, get your uncle the highest strength pain killers from the kit and give me the roll of bacta.” I had to brace myself against my knees to remain upright.

The bacta roll touched my hand. “Good boy.” I ruffled his hair, the sunshine of my days.

I carefully cooled the hot flesh with a fresh rag and water from the basin then wrapped the new stump. We might have enough in this roll for three more applications, and I needed to get back to town tomorrow for more.

Luke spoke awkwardly. “What should we do with his leg, Papa?”

The smell remained atrocious. “When it cools tonight we will have to air this room. I suppose...”

“Burn or bury it out at his parents’ graves.” Beru’s voice was guarded.

I nodded at Luke.

Owen had not quite passed out, but I forced sleep on him.

Then came cleanup and Luke brought a shovel before the leg was wrapped for burial.

By this time it was dusk and Tatoo II had set, we arrived at the worn gravestones. Any lettering had already worn off, I had no idea which stone marked which burial.

I shrugged and asked, “Where should I dig?”

Beru pointed at a point that made a triangle. “Cliegg was buried on the left after Shmi.”

I looked at the grave of Anakin’s mother, finally absorbing she was as much my stepmother too. If I used the Force to help make the hole deeper than required, it didn’t matter. “Do you want to say anything?”

She shook her head and I sent out a plea to the Force. _-Protect us, help us, as we seek to serve the Light no matter where we travel.-_

Hurrying back to the dome, Owen was still asleep. I nodded toward Luke’s room. His homework was overdue but he looked too tired to insist he could stay up later.

“A handsome boy. You’ve done well. Rumors about you were garbled between what Cliegg barely said and the will.” Beru paused. “I heard once you were a Jedi from Cliegg but no one heard of one named Lars.”

“I was renamed when I was accepted very young. I did not know I was a Lars until my biometrics matched the will.” I would have considered planning a mind trick to take Lars’ place for a time if I’d known more ahead of time, but it wasn’t needed.

She looked puzzled, and then smiled. “This was a good refuge then. So many use aliases already, but the _Jedi_ identity was the alias. Who were you then?”

“General and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.” I made an abbreviated bow. “I know of only one other Jedi who survived the initial chaos.”

“You knew Ani then? Padmé and he seemed to have terrible crushes when they came here try to save Shmi.”

“Padme was a dear friend, and Anakin was my Padawan- apprentice and later best friend. He...” _Too many secrets._ “Their affair was probably the worst kept secret in the GAR.”

She smiled but then seemed to realize I was shading my answers. “How did Ani die?”

I knew that question would come, but to hear it was still a surprise. My chest wrenched with a sob and a few more came before I reached a bitter calm. “Whoever said that he died? He became the emperor’s strong arm, Darth Vader. Murderer of thousands, slayer of younglings, Sith who has helped enslave the Republic he swore to protect, and angry slave who caused his wife’s death... I failed to stop him before he slaughtered more, so many more across the galaxy than just the thousand non-combatants and children in the Jedi Temple.”

Beru winced but she didn’t seem truly shocked. “Ani slaughtered the entire tribe that took Shmi when he was here. He talked crazy too but the girl calmed him before they hurried off to rescue… you?”

“That was the mess that set off the war. The beginning of the slaughter of the Order, though Anakin remained a hero until… something changed.” I shrugged helplessly. “Luke and I would be targeted so we fled to the one world he hates.”

“If he is this Vader, he’s so often on the holonet, just like he when he was just Anakin.” Looking away Beru whispered, “What does it say that he circles power like a hanger-on in the court of the Hutts? Republic as a General and Jedi, Empire as… whatever Vader is.”

“I am sorry. I’ve had years to grieve even if I still lack many answers. Whatever was, cannot be as important as raising Luke. I met her eyes. “Luke is the Light of my life. I came here looking for a refuge when the war ended for Luke, and was very surprised by the will.”

We were silent for a few minutes and I started to make logistics plans. “Do you think Owen would prefer a private location while he heals, or one here with more interaction but less privacy?”

Beru looked surprised again. “I am surprised you are this hospitable, Owen was determined to take away as much as he could.”

“It was enough, though I grew tired of those rations and the single spoon was overused until I got more.” I was still a little ambivalent about this.

“We will have to batten on your hospitality. We never did get ahead in the mines, even as a foreman.” She sounded embarrassed now.

“Beru, I had not expected to stay long either, but that would have been very challenging when Luke was so young. I regretted that you felt forced to leave as I had not expected to inherit anything from a father I was unaware of.”

She snorted. “I told Owen he was crazy to get mad like that. That war made leaving the planet too stupid even for him.”

“As long as he can be civil, you can stay. I acquired a few more vaporators so we have enough water. If you could help guard the farm, I can go for supplies or other tasks more safely...” _I might be able to teach Luke more than the simplest unarmed katas in some cave free from interruption too._

Beru looked distant. “We accept.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is a one shot, this would shift the events of A New Hope considerably. If the muse strikes, it may continue.
> 
> This is just about the last story drafted for NaNo 2019. The remainder areeither too wacked out or to sketchy.
> 
> \--  
> Star Wars is owned by George Lucas and Disney. No infringement is intended and no profit is made with this story.


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